This�ll have to be a short entry as I have already put diner in the oven and have precisely 26 minutes before I have to go get it out again, so this will be just exactly as much as I can type in that time�.allowing for staring out of the window with writer�s block and trying to block the sound out of some greasy haired, spot faced teen committing damnable murder on an innocent guitar downstairs. Yup, BF�s teaching.
Im sure I shouldn�t slag off the pupils but this lad scores a big fat zero on all counts. Zero looks, zero personality, zero ability/talent and zero enthusiasm. I have no idea why he comes for lessons�except perhaps that his parents are middle class and so, therefore, he is morally obliged to Learn An Instrument. The poor bastard�s already tried (and given up) violin, flute and piano.
Give the boy a break, Mr & Mrs Lentil Eaters. Let him sit in his room wanking and puffing JPS out of the window like normal teenage boys.
This weekend is choc full of tales of my own perfect offspring so you may look away now if you wish. Other Peoples Kids are a pretty boring topic for the casual observer so I apologise if I bore you.
Jooj was a way on a camping trip this weekend. Those of you who are UK based will know that it has rained enough over the last couple of weeks for animals to start pairing themselves off and looking in the Yellow Pages under "Boat Builder � all designs considered", so it wasn�t ideal camping conditions.
BF and I went to collect her on Sunday lunchtime. It was raining. As we approached the field I could see she had some kind of multi-coloured garments on her lower limbs. Couldn�t quite work out what it was til we got a bit nearer when I realised it was just a pair of joggers. When she left the house on Friday they were light blue. Now they were light blue to mid thigh, whence they became dark blue as they had morphed into a supersaturated solution of trouser and rain water. From the kneecap down they were brown with mud. Not flicks and splashes of mud, but completely made of mud.
"Mum" she said, "I havent had a shower since Friday and Im freezing. All my clothes are soaked and so is my towel. Its been great."
As we had taken BFs car to collect her, she had to take her hiking boots off and roll her trousers up before she got in so she wouldnt spoil the upholstery (!). When I unpacked her clothes, the only thing that wasn�t soaked, stinking and/or covered in various bits of the New Forest, was her facecloth. They should make camping clothes out of that material, it has amazing "stay clean and dry" properties.
A hot shower and roast beef dinner later, she was restored to her former glory.
She got out of bed about 10ish with a headache and came downstairs for a chat.
We made her laugh a bit and she made us laugh a bit til I said it was time to go back to bed. As she left the room she let out a massive thundering cheek wobbling fart. Looking back over her shoulder she said (in the same way she would if she was sorting out some discarded trinkets and giving all the broken crap to her sister), "You can have that."
This week�s work plan looks too foul to contemplate. Tomorrow I have a "Brainstorming Seminar" from 9.30 � 5.30 followed by �drinks and dinner�. I cant decide which one Im looking forward to less. The brainstorming promises to be toe-curling in its awfulness. Im sure that Dale Carnegie�s a very nice man but he�s got a lot to fucking well answer for. Now, any tosser with the guts to stand up in front of a room full of people can make himself a packet of money by spouting quasi-commercial mumbo jumbo with no grounding in the way a real company works. Keep your fingers crossed for me, dear readers, that he says "There�s no �I� in team". How long have I waited for the opportunity to say "No. But there�s four in �platitude quoting idiot�."
After such a heinous day (with lunch included�.well, wooopdedoooo), what Id like to do is go straight to the workies and get off my face on cheap scotch. Instead I get to sit in a pretentious wine bar, in my work clothes, drinking pop cos Im driving and then on to a pizza place for hilarious hi-jinks and supper. At least when Im brown-noising with the top brass I get to go to some decent restaurants.
Two meetings on Wednesday (one with the Droid who runs our Call Centre and talks about her team �dovetailing their rest periods� � that means �can you wait til X gets back from lunch before you go, please�) followed by Getting My Hair Cut (always traumatic!). Thursday I have a Breakfast Meeting (surely the cruelest punishment one could inflict on a person who likes to stay up til three drinking and having sex) at which I must provide croissants and �nice jam�, followed by an afternoon off. Well, not really an afternoon off as I am doing mum stuff. Jooj has begged me to some and help with her school play as "it seriously sucks, mum" so Im doing that til 2.30 then going to Treacle�s sports day. State School Sports Day�s arent nearly as good as private school sports day. There�s nowhere to sit, no tea tent and *shock! horror!* NO MUMMIES RACE!!!! Everyone gets a prize for taking part � there�s no winners. By my reckoning that means they are all losers. Even Treac thinks its stupid.
Friday I have a planning meeting with the Finance Departm��..oops sorry, snoozed off just thinking about it.
Roll on Saturday, which is going to start REAL BAD but get better as the day goes on. More on that later.
s
x
PS All done with three minutes to spare! Yay me!
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